


Thrill Of The Hunt

by SmutKnight



Series: Drama In Demacia [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bar Fight, Bar Room Brawl, Biting, Braids, Breasts, Budding Love, Come Marking, Come Shot, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Falling In Love, Femdom, First Date, Flirting, French Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Grinding, Groping, Kissing, Licking, Love Bites, Lust, Missionary Position, Neck Kissing, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Passion, Power Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Semi-Public Sex, Shyness, Spanking, Teasing, Thighs, Tight Pants, Wholesome, saliva
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmutKnight/pseuds/SmutKnight
Summary: As prince, it's hard to find a woman who doesn't want to be with you just for your title and wealth. Perhaps that's why Vayne has always been so alluring, the huntress making him be the one doing the hunting...
Relationships: Shauna Vayne/Jarvan
Series: Drama In Demacia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754641
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

The winter ball was regarded as the height of Demacian revelry, with men and women from all across the empire desperate to attend just for a chance to rub shoulders with the greats. For Jarvan however, it was the same as every other public event. Smile at the decadent men and women, shake a few hands, give a rousing speech about the latest victory on the battlefield, then go home. Try as he might, sneaking away to drink or attempting to court one of the many beautiful women at such events always seemed a near-impossibility under his father’s watchful eye. A couple of years back he’d managed to dodge his duties long enough to get a few hurried pints of ale inside of him, and had been chastised thoroughly by his father after being a little too jovial with the attending aristocracy. 

  
  


Jarvan rolled his eyes as he was directed to yet another overly wealthy couple, the husband looking decades older than the wife. He forced a smile, gave them his greetings, joked about their corner of the empire being his favourite, then moved onto the next. Over and over and over. What was worse is that he was forced to wear this ridiculous suit, being a proud member of the Demacian army, he sought nothing more to wear than his standard issue slacks under his custom made armour. Nevertheless, apparently royalty must be presentable.  _ But what if the Noxians ambush the event? After all, every person on Runeterra knows about the winter ball! _ He had reasoned, trying to argue his case for even just his helmet, but was met with flat disregard for such a ridiculous notion. 

  
  


Excusing himself from the royal tent, he ventured out into the city square where countless tents, stalls, and decorations had been set up. The whole affair had the air of a carnival and despite the chilly winter air, enchanted lamp posts gave the square the warmth one might expect on a pleasant summer evening. He scanned the courtyard, counting over a dozen food stalls selling freshly baked goods and carveries selling slices of sizzling meat. Temporary wooden bars dotted the grounds too, with men and women of all backgrounds getting a little too merry on mead and ale. He watched as several men broke into raucous applause and cheers as a particularly curvy woman made her way onto the bar top and downed a tankard of mead in one go. He chuckled and shook his head, pleased to see his people having fun.

  
  


He turned his attention to the dimly lit perimeter of the festivities. The streets were lined with on-duty soldiers, mostly grunts admittedly, but a few higher ranks were dotted amongst them too. “ _ What shit luck” _ He thought, knowing most men and women among his ranks relished the chance to get drunk and try and score some company for the night at this event. To be stuck guarding it while revelry occurred just behind you must be particularly morale sapping. If he weren’t being watched so bloody closely by the royal guard, perhaps he would have tried to sneak a barrel or two of mead their way. He sighed, knowing that defence at such an occasion was a necessary evil to allow for the men and women currently not on duty to enjoy themselves worry free. 

  
  


Amongst the crowd he spotted Shyvana though admittedly it wasn’t too hard considering how tall she was, especially when wearing that ridiculous horned helmet of hers. He lifted his hand high above his head and waved at her. She was on duty, patrolling the grounds, and as such he didn’t expect much of a reaction from her. Sure enough, she smiled slightly and gave him a quick playful wave, before continuing her patrol. He rolled his eyes, expecting nothing less from his ever loyal guard captain. At least she didn’t baby him like the others, noting that he in fact was not some fragile royal bed-wetter that needed protecting, and was actually a formidable warrior in his own right. Of course she hadn’t started out that way, but he noticed that she treated him much more like an equal after witnessing him fend off a direwolf with just his fists. Of course, he wouldn’t have had to at all if he'd had remembered to hang his food pouch up in a tree before making camp to avoid such encounters, but that was besides the point. 

  
  


He watched as she disappeared into the crowd. Looking over his shoulder, he was surprised to see no royal guards having yet noticed his absence. Leaning inside the tent, he noticed that one of the more eccentric barons was regaling the occupants with a fantastical story of a giant frost-wyrm he’d allegedly slain, complete with elaborate hand gestures and stabbing motions with the orante piece of cutlery he was currently wielding. Grinning, he saw his opportunity to escape his bothersome commitments and go enjoy the festivities first hand. Hastily walking away from the royal tent, he made the decision to head in the opposite direction he had last seen Shyvana. As much as he enjoyed the fierce woman’s company, he anticipated having a tough time convincing her to not inform the other royal guards of his absence. 

  
  


Moving through the crowd, he noticed to his relief that a lot of the attendees were dressed similar to he was, in their smartest shirt or dress. He felt a little more at ease than he had previously, thankful that he wasn’t wearing his armour so that he could actually blend into the crowd. Should help keep the royal guards from spotting him for a while, at the very least. 

  
  


He headed through the jostling crowd over to a rather unfriendly looking barkeep, a large burly balding man who looked just as likely to crack you over the head as he was to hand you a tankard. The prince sidled up to the bar, leaning against it confidently as he eyed a few women that were chatting amongst themselves. He shot one a smile, as charming as he could manage, but she rolled her eyes and turned away with complete disinterest. Jarvan felt a slight stab to his pride, so instead turned to face the barkeep.

  
  


“ _ Excuse me good sir, how about a round of ale for me and my friends here?” _ Jarvan asked, checking out the corner of his eye if the women had noticed his generous request, which they disappointingly hadn’t. He grumbled slightly, about to change his request to just a tankard for himself, when the barkeep pointed a stubby sausage-like finger at him.

  
  


“ _ Who the hell do you think you are tryna’ flaunt your wealth like that, I don’t serve posh twats who think they’re better than us working folk.” _ The man snapped, apparently offended by Jarvan’s attempted generosity. The prince couldn’t help but smirk, having been mistaken for one of the snobby upper class he found himself constantly surrounded by. He undoubtedly assumed Jarvan to be the son of a successful trader or some such ilk, living off of his father's funds. Jarvan opened his mouth to correct the red faced man, but upon the realisation that yes, as a prince, he was in fact cut from the same cloth as such people; he decided his best course of action was to just leave. 

  
  


Turning from the bar, a little down-trodden at the way working folk had reacted to his presence (even if they didn’t know he was the prince, he was easily able to recognise his accent only found amongst the well-off of Demacian society). He scanned the crowd for any patrolling guardsmen, and was delighted to find he was not yet being hunted by the royal guards, no doubt still captivated by the baron’s tall tales. He did, however, spot a familiar face sitting at a bar opposite him. Hair like ravens, skin like snow, and a torn crimson cape. Only one woman in all of Demacia fit that description. He made his way through the crowd, leaning against the bar beside the huntress. 

  
  


“ _ Fancy seeing you here” _ He teased, a playful grin upon his face. Vayne scarcely looked up from her drink as she replied.

  
  


“ _ Smooth going with that barkeep back there, those women looked  _ **_really_ ** _ impressed, surprised they didn’t just leap into your arms” _ She retorted sarcastically, evidently having spotted Jarvan long before he had spotted her. Jarvan laughed the observation off, lest he think about it too much and allow it to dampen his mood. He noticed that Vayne was as armoured as ever, plate covered thigh-high boots and menacing armoured gauntlets sat intimidatingly atop her bodysuit. He was about to compliment her style, when he noticed the crossbow affixed firmly to her wrist. 

  
  


“ _ Whoah, hey, Shauna!” _ Jarvan exclaimed, tapping her wrist guard with a disapproving look upon his face. “ _ The winter ball is a no weapon zone, remember?” _ He teased, surprised she had been able to find someone willing to serve her drinks when she was so obviously armed. Vayne shrugged with a smug smirk upon her face, they both knew she refused to follow such rules.

  
  


“ _ I’d like to see you try and take it off me” _ She teased playfully, lifting it up and admiring it’s expert craftsmanship. Jarvan sighed, knowing full well that continuing such a discussion was pointless.  _ Always have to be ready _ , she had insisted on the numerous previous occasions they had had such a discussion.

  
  


“ _ That’s not the only thing I’d like to take off of you” _ The prince teased back, eyeing her skin tight bodysuit which was more than a little flattering atop her athletic body. She laughed, taking a long drink from her tankard, shaking her head in disbelief. Despite her cool and controlled demeanour, Jarvan noticed just a hint of rosy red in her pale cheeks. 

  
  


“ _ As if we haven’t had  _ **_this_ ** _ discussion enough” _ She remarked, placing her elbow on the bar and holding her head in her hand as she looked the man up and down. They’d known each other for years, and for as long as she could remember Jarvan had been desperate for her. It’s not like he wasn’t objectively attractive, he was tall and strong and had a jaw line that looked as if it were capable of sundering mountains. That much was true, but Shauna had never been one to settle down. Nevertheless, despite her brushing him off, he had persisted in trying to gain her affection. Jarvan groaned, holding his hands up in despair. 

  
  


“ _ Come on Shauna, not even a chance? We both know it could work between us, just because I’m a prince it doesn’t mean you have to tiptoe around me as if I were a trap waiting to be sprung” _ He insisted, assuming her hesitancy to give a relationship a chance was due to his position in society. Vayne scoffed at him, laughing to herself as she took another sip of her beverage, causing Jarvan to doubt that his assumption was correct.

  
  


“ _ You still think it’s because you’re the heir? As if I’ve ever been one to give a shit about that you royal doofus” _ Vane exclaimed rather loudly, the barkeep polishing a glass just beside them raising a curious eyebrow at the exchange. 

  
  


“ _ Well, yeah? What else could it be?” _ He pressed, confused by this sudden revelation.

  
  


“ _ Urgh.” _ Vayne despaired, turning on her stool to face the prince completely. She pointed an accusatory finger towards the royal, prodding him roughly square in the chest.

  
  


“ _ It’s because you just see me as some hot piece of ass to add to your conquest. You’re like every man I’ve met, you see the curves and the beauty without ever wondering about the woman as a whole. If you  _ **_really_ ** _ wanted to be with me, I reckon you’d take the time to actually get to know me.” _ Vayne accused, narrowing her eyes as she prodded the prince once more. Jarvan began to protest, but a guilty look appeared on his face when he realised just how right she was. She was a friend, sure, but only by way of meetings and battle. Not once had he ever sought her out in his own time, or even taken the time to get to know her properly, unless he happened upon her in social events such as this. He frowned slightly, catching Vayne off guard.

  
  


“ _ You’re right, I’m sorry.” _ He admitted, ready to turn and leave her be, not wishing to further frustrate the woman. The huntress felt her heart sink slightly. She had expected him to deny it, argue and leave angrily, as men often did when she called them out. He had surprised her, however, offering a genuine apology and acknowledgement of his mistake. She gripped his arm roughly, stopping him from walking away. He turned to face her, expecting another scolding. 

  
  


“ _ Tell you what, if you seek me out and actually get to know me: the real me. Then  _ **_maybe_ ** _ I’ll think about it.” _ She relented, realising that she had perhaps not known Jarvan quite as well as she supposed, willing to grant him a chance to impress. His eyes lit up, and just as he opened his mouth to thank her gratefully, he felt another hand grip his other arm. He turned to face whoever had gripped him, cursing under his breath as his eyes met Shyvana’s. 

  
  


“ _ Come on Sir, your attendance is requested in the royal tent.” _ She informed, shooting a friendly smile towards the huntress who shot one back, always having respect for other strong women such as herself. Before he was dragged back to his duties, he promised the arbalist that he’d put aside some time to spend with her, though he didn’t know where to find her. She waved goodbye smugly as Shyvana dragged him off, knowing full well that it would be her who would find him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Vayne cursed as she struggled to restring her enormous two handed crossbow. The wood groaned and strained as she held the frame down by the stirrup with her knee, using both hands to drag the bowstring into place. It latched into place with an almighty click, much to her relief, her sore arms threatening to buckle and give out with the effort of it. She wiped the sweat from her brow, lifting the bolt thrower up onto the table in front of her. She smirked at the fearsome design of it, knowing that there were few ballistas let alone crossbows as powerful of hers. Of course she only broke this one out when faced with especially sizable beasts, or particularly thick armour. She happened to know that Noxian armourers across the empire had been forced to increase the thickness of their shields due to her usage of this weapon. After all, when Noxian command watched a single bolt hurtle through not one but two layers of shield-bearing infantry, it was hard not to feel a little ill-equipped.

  
  


Truth be told however, she had been wondering about modifying the bolt thrower further. Not long ago she had met up with a regiment of ranger-knights out on the fringes of the empire while hunting a particularly bothersome fire drake. Apparently there was one among their ranks who had a unique crossbow variant of their own, one with an in-built bolt feeder allowing for multiple bolts per second. The thought of such an attachment made her smile, though she couldn’t help but feel like all the hundreds of hours she’d spent practicing swiftly reloading her crossbow would have been wasted were she to pursue this improvement. Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until they were about to enter the archery range. Without looking, she fired off a silver bolt towards the entrance, sticking firmly into the wall barely an inch from Jarvan’s face.

  
  


He snapped the bolt out of the brickwork as he approached Vayne, admiring how sturdy the bolt was and how it showed not so much as a scratch from the impact. Vayne rolled her eyes as she turned to face him, holding her hand out for him to give her the bolt back.

  
  


“ _ You weren’t aiming for me, right?” _ Jarvan chuckled, the slight waver in his voice betraying his uncertainty.

  
  


“ _ Did you want me to?” _ Vayne fired back, loading the bolt back into her wrist-mounted crossbow in one smooth hand movement. She held her wrist up towards the taller man, closing one eye as she took aim against his chest. Jarvan smirked and held his hands up in surrender. Shauna paused for a moment, it seemed to the prince that she was weighing up the pros and cons of firing once more. In reality, however, Vayne just wanted to watch him squirm a little. She calmly blew a few stray strands of hair from her fringe to the side, lowering her wrist and removing her gauntlet, placing it on the table beside her two-handed crossbow. Jarvan breathed a silent sigh of relief as Shauna turned away from him to put it down, before quickly smiling once more as she turned back to face him. She crossed her arms across her chest, leaning against the table.

  
  


“ _ To what do I owe the honour then, J?”  _ She inquired, fully expecting news of some beast rampaging about the empire’s farm lands. Jarvan rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish smile upon his face. From this alone Vayne knew there was no threat. 

  
  


“ _ Well the other night when you said… well you were right so I thought I’d try actually spend some time to get to know you.” _ The prince admitted, feeling his cheeks smoulder with embarrassment. Why was this so hard for him? He was no stranger to women, in fact he could probably have most women of the empire swooning just by smiling at them. Tall, handsome, powerful, who didn’t want that? But Vayne didn’t care for such things, she looked at him like a wolf would a lamb. True to her character, she eyed him up and down with an unimpressed look on her face. He clenched his fists, hopelessness setting in as he wondered why he even bothered. Her eyes softened slightly, a hint of a smile creeping on to her lips.

  
  


“ _ How’d you know I’d be here?” _ She asked, nodding back towards the targets lined against the wall behind her.

  
  


“ _Call it intuition_ ” Jarvan remarked back, smiling at the raven-haired huntress. Friendliness seemed to dissipate from her eyes, an irritated look returning to her face _._ He felt his heart beat in his chest as nerves began to set in, worried he might mess the whole thing up.

  
  


“ _ No actually I… Well I checked the library first because I know you probably spend a lot of time in the archives reading about myths and legends of beasts you can try to hunt down. Next I checked a few taverns because it’s late and well If you’re anything like me, which I think you are, you enjoy a drink to help relax after a hard day’s fighting.”  _ Vayne’s gaze softened once more, smiling in response to the proud prince’s honesty.

  
  


“ _... and honestly I only came here because I was going to ask the quartermaster if you ever used this target range, I didn’t actually expect to find you here so late.” _ Jarvan concluded, feeling incredibly bashful, as if he were a child again having to explain why he’d been causing mischief. Vayne struggled to keep a straight face, her lips curling upwards and her eyes brightening as she broke into laughter. Jarvan braced himself, but her laugh was different from what he’d come to expect from her. There was no sarcasm or scoffs, this laugh was gentle and genuine, the sweet bubbly tone plucking at his heartstrings. He laughed too, if only to try lessen his feeling of awkwardness. Vayne eventually caught her breath, wiping a tear from her eye.

  
  


“ _ That’s disgustingly sweet, you went hunting for me.” _ Vayne shot back, her aim no longer that of cold criticism, but instead striving for a friendly discourse. The prince must have really wanted to see her, she thought to herself with amusement, a hint of rose on her pale cheeks. 

  
  


“ _ Well you said that I’d have to seek you out so I… well I did haha” _ He admitted, feeling surprisingly shy and exposed. It seemed to him however that the more vulnerable he allowed himself to be, the more at ease the woman was. Vayne smiled sweetly at the hopelessly eager man, though truth be told she was impressed by his character so far. It would seem he was not the unfeeling meat-head that she’d pegged him as. 

  
  


“ _ So what’s the plan now? Going to sweep me off my feet? Take me out to dinner?” _ Vayne teased, batting her eyelashes at him with a coy grin. If he wasn’t blushing before, he sure was now. He opened his mouth but seemed to stammer over his words. Vayne revelled in near-sadistic joy at flustering him so easily, but she didn’t want to be  _ too _ cruel. She turned around, lifting her large crossbow off of the table, and holding it out to him.

  
  


“ _ I’m only teasing. Since you’re here, why don’t we do a bit of target practice?” _ The huntress suggested, pleased to see him take her up on the offer and effortlessly lift the bolt-thrower from her hands. He looked at the complex piece of machinery with apprehension. His nerves left him however as he watched Vayne slide on her gauntlet, motioning him over to the archery range. She sat herself up on the side of the archery lane, pulling Jarvan by the arm slightly so that he was stood just beside her. She reached out, pointing at the different parts of the crossbow and explaining their function.

  
  


“... _ and then that right there’s the trigger. You got all that soldier boy?” _ Vayne teased, swinging her armour clad legs idly as she studied the man’s face. He was grinning from ear to ear, a sight that Vayne didn’t know she wanted to see until now. 

  
  


“ _ You know, ever since we first met, I’ve  _ **_always_ ** _ wanted to try this thing out” _ Jarvan admitted with a joyous tone not dissimilar to Shauna’s when she’d made her first kill. 

  
  


“ _ You know, you could have just asked” _ She remarked, somewhat wishing he had done, enjoying her alone time with the royal so far.

  
  


“ _ Yeah but... “ _ Jarvan hesitated, unsure of whether to continue. Seeing an opportunity to change the topic, he raised the crossbow to his shoulder and loosed a bolt down range. Vayne’s intrigued expression did not change, nor did her eyes stray from his face as she spoke.

  
  


“ _ Yes but what?” _ She asked, her voice surprisingly soft for such an intense woman. Jarvan smirked at her, adamant in trying to discontinue this conversation.

  
  


“ _ I got a bull’s eye.” _ He commented rather smugly, trying to catch the arbelist off-guard. 

  
  


“ _ You missed the target completely. Tell me why you wouldn’t ask me” _ Vayne continued with a matter of fact tone to her voice, still refusing to look down range, her blue eyes searching instead for a clue as to what the prince wasn’t telling her. His smile faded, and he put the crossbow down next to her, sighing as he avoided eye contact. 

  
  


“ _ I don’t know Shauna, you’re just… You’re always so intense and defensive, I guess. You sometimes look as if you’d just as rather put a bolt in me than talk to me.” _ He admitted, finding himself tensing involuntarily as he expected to get slapped or chewed out for such an insensitive statement. Looking up at her once more, he was surprised to see a guilty look on her face, rather than an angry one. He opened his mouth to apologise, but she waved him off as she began. 

  
  


“ _ I get it. It’s something I do deliberately. I’m sorry it made you so apprehensive of me, Jarvan.” _ Vayne explained. Though her tone of voice was calm and collected as always, the prince noticed a slight frown linger on her lips for just a moment. Seeing the normally cold and emotionless beast hunter display even just a tiny hint of sadness was absolutely heart wrenching for him.

  
  


“ _ It’s… It’s smart, really. I understand it helps you keep everyone at a distance, it’s hard to trust people, even here in Demacia. If it’s hard for me, I can only imagine how hard it is for you given your...”  _ He stopped himself, thinking it wise to not bring up her mentor’s betrayal. Despite his rambling like attempt at comfort, he was relieved to see a smile creep onto her blood red lips. 

  
  


“ _ And yet here I am, letting you handle my favourite crossbow, not to mention letting you miss with it” _ She joked, admittedly feeling a lot more relaxed now that the prince had displayed yet more honesty with her. Jarvan beamed with pride, raising his eyebrows as he nodded down range. Vayne looked over her shoulder, somewhat shocked to find the bolt had actually connected with the target. She started laughing, as although it had hit the target itself, it was on the very edge and not within the painted rings at all.

  
  


“ _ That  _ **_so_ ** _ doesn’t count! That would be barely a graze on most beasts, you’d have succeeded only in pissing them off!” _ Vayne joked, prodding the prince playfully as he wagged his finger at her.

  
  


“ _ Oh no no no miss Vayne, I do believe you said I’d missed. It seems to me that as the bolt is not upon the floor that-” _ Jarvan began with a playfully confident tone of voice, cut off by Vayne rolling her eyes and clenching her fist, firing a bolt down range which connected with the back of his original bolt. It skimmed the larger bolt in such a way that dislodged it from the target entirely, sending it spinning up into the air and then landing with a clang against the stone floor.

  
  


“ _ You were saying?” _ Shauna teased, loading a fresh bolt into her wrist-mounted weapon, enjoying the look of complete awe on the soldier’s face. Jarvan, not one to be outdone, reached out for the large crossbow once more, eager for another shot. He was stopped by Vayne, who had jumped down from the ledge and was holding the bolt-thrower down against the table. Her hands traced it’s shaft until she met Jarvan’s holding his much bigger hand in hers. He turned to face her, having to look down at the shorter woman. His lips met hers as she stood on her tip-toes, delicately kissing him as she held his hand in hers. She let her lips linger against his for a few moments, savouring the taste, before letting go of his hand and quickly lifting up her crossbow.

  
  


“ _ Well that was plenty fun J, but I really must be going. Demons won’t hunt themselves after all.”  _ She remarked, turning away from him to hide her blushing cheeks. He paused for a moment, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Vayne looked over her shoulder, making sure the poor man hadn’t died of shock. He smiled sheepishly, quickly shuffling away from the range and towards the exit.

  
  


“ _ Right, yes, of course. Sorry Shauna I’ll… I’ll leave you to it. Stay safe, yeah?” _ Jarvan fumbled with some confusion evident in his voice. Had he done something wrong? But she was the one that kissed him? Should he apologise? But for what? Vayne was looking down at the table, cocking the weighty crossbow as she spoke once more.

  
  


“ _ Why don’t you check in with me tomorrow over a drink? I’ll be at the Hung Crow tomorrow at around 9.” _ She remarked, loading the crossbow onto her back as she adjusted her armour. She looked up, just long enough to shoot him a wink, before turning her attention back to her armour plate adorned boots. Jarvan smiled to himself, a pang of anxiety in his stomach at the prospect of a real date, striding quickly but confidently down the hall as he whistled cheerfully to himself. 


	3. Chapter 3

Jarvan spent an embarrassingly long time pacing the length of his bedroom, all manner of royal garb and fancy suits laying on his large king-sized bed. It was almost time for his date with the huntress and if he didn’t leave soon, he’d end up being late. The trouble was, though he’d never admit it to her, she was his first date. That wasn’t to say he was a virgin or hadn’t had his fair share of women, but all of them had been quick flings, spur of the moment and subject to intoxicated passion. But having set up a meeting prior, rather than just going with the flow, left the prince ample time to worry. He’d spent most of his day in the library, having librarians help him to research all manner of beasts, spirits and demons. He hoped improving his knowledge of such things might impress Vayne, though as the clock grew closer and closer to nine, he found what little he’d learned quickly slipping from his mind.

  
  


He decided on a smart button down shirt, a simple plain white design, paired with a pair of black trousers. They were quite possibly the least fancy and complicated clothing items he owned, after all the Demacian royals had countless highly regarded tailors at their disposal. He somehow felt wearing a frilly suit jacket adorned in all manner of brass buttons would not only fail to impress, but also make him the subject of mockery from the incredibly blunt woman. Looking himself over in the mirror once more, he smirked at himself, confident in his looks. Why should he worry? After all she had been the one to invite him, he just needed to be himself and not do anything stupid. The prince made his way from his quarters and out of the castle with high hopes for the evening ahead, blissfully unaware of having forgotten to bring any money with him.

  
  


When the prince arrived in ‘The Hung Crow’ he was pleasantly surprised to find the pub to be fairly clean and bright. He had assumed somewhere with such a drab name would have similarly drab clientele, but from what he’d seen so far it was mostly cheerful people enjoying some ale and a meal. He’d have expected Vayne to frequent an establishment a little more rough around the edges and suspected perhaps she had deliberately chosen a nicer location so as to not scare him off. Heading further inside, Jarvan suspected he may have drawn conclusions about the pub a little too soon, hearing raised voices from the bar.

  
  


“ _ Look love, I know you’re actin’ all broody and stuck up cause you’re intimidated by the armour. Bein’ a guard doesn’t mean I’ll get you in trouble, in fact I like my women a little naughty” _ A belligerent, clearly intoxicated man called out. Jarvan caught sight of him as he approached the bar, and indeed he was adorned in a guardsman’s uniform. As were the three other men circled like vultures around someone sat on a stool. He caught sight of some raven hair between the men and knew at once who it was they were harassing.

  
  


“ _ I’ll bet you do, now I’ve asked you nicely to leave me alone, if you make me ask again there’s going to be a lot more than your pride getting hurt.” _ Vayne remarked calmly, a calculated threat that sent a shiver down Jarvan’s spine as he knew exactly what she was capable of. The drunkard however seemed immune to her attempt at intimidation, clenching his fist before slamming it on the side of the bar next to her. 

  
  


“ _ Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to me like that? How ‘bout me and my friends here drag you outside so we can talk this over someplace quiet?” _ The guard threatened, a smirk upon his face as his equally drunk friends laughed and sneered at the huntress. Vayne sighed, standing up from her bar stool, deciding which of the men she’d break the nose of first. Just as she turned to face the heavily armoured guardsman, she caught sight of a strong hand gripping his shoulder, pushing him to the side as Jarvan stepped forward.

  
  


“ _ There you are Shauna, sorry I took so long. You fellas can be on your way now.” _ Jarvan remarked casually, trying to disarm the situation without needless bloodshed. Of course, the men didn’t know it, but he was trying to save them from her. He had no doubt the arbelist could make short work of even a trained Demacian guard, especially with her… He looked at Vayne’s wrist, expecting to have to stop her from putting a bolt in the intoxicated ruffians, but was surprised to see her completely unarmed. Vayne smiled cheerfully at him, before directing her attention to the foolhardy drunk still bearing down on them both.

  
  


“ _ And who the fuck do you think you are? You don’t get to fuckin’ push me around, I’ll have you locked away you-” _ He was interrupted, Jarvan growing tired of the man’s incessant shouting and subsequent spittle that escaped his lips. 

  
  


“ _ I’m Jarvan the fourth, heir to the Demacian throne. Your boss, if you go up the chain of command high enough. Remind me again of your name?” _ Jarvan remarked, keeping his cool and pleased to see the other men shrink away slightly at learning his name. The drunk seemed to pause for a moment, clearly caught off guard by this development and needing a moment or two to process his response. 

  
  


“ _ Henry…” _ He replied sheepishly, the anger very swiftly fading from his flushed face. Jarvan looked the man up and down. He could strip him of his rank right now, but that would cause a scene that was sure to put a damper on the evening. He’d keep a note of his name, after all he wore the uniform of a gate guard so there couldn’t be too many Henry’s among their ranks, and he had no doubt this would not be the first time this soldier got reprimanded. Before the prince could tell him to be on his way, Henry’s fists clenched, clearly more aggression left in him.

  
  


“ _ Some prince you are, lettin’ monsters into our city. Real good fuckin’ job keeping us safe.” _ He spat, a murmur of agreement from his less bold, and intoxicated, friends. Jarvan looked to Vayne, after all if anyone would have heard of a monster in the city, it would be her. She looked up at him and shrugged; whatever it was he was referring to clearly wasn’t that big of a threat. 

  
  


“ _ I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to…” _ Jarvan replied. As much as he did not want to further engage the drunk, he needed to know if his people were unsafe. 

  
  


“ _ Oh of course you do. Those disgusting fuckin’ half-breeds you let prance about.” _ He shot back, his fists shaking slightly, clearly feeling as if the prince were playing him for a fool. Jarvan folded his arms over his chest, lowering his eyebrows as he frowned disapprovingly at the guard. He had a strong suspicion who it was he was talking abou-

  
  


“ _ That bitch dragon, gods you even let her wear a bloody uniform! She prances in with this spider-legged freak like it’s not going to be a fuckin’ problem. If you were a real ruler, if you gave a  _ **_shit_ ** _ about us, you’d kill those fucking unnatural- _ **_AUGH!_ ** _ ”  _ His tirade of hate was cut short by Jarvan’s hand about his throat. Jarvan lifted the man off of his feet, an impressive feat given the plate the guard wore, his mildly annoyed expression turned to utter contempt. The guard’s feet lashed out in the air, kicking at Jarvan desperately to free himself of his grasp. The prince scarcely seemed to move as each kick landed, only continuing to tighten his grip on the man’s throat.

  
  


“ _ That dragon is a very good friend of mine. Now I’m going to let go of you, you’re going to apologise to me and my friend here for interrupting our evening, and then you’re going to get out of my sight.” _ Jarvan spoke slowly and concisely, Vayne grinning at the almost sadistic way he dragged his words out while the man squirmed and struggled in his grasp. Henry nodded, as best he could, and was promptly dropped to the floor once more. He rubbed at his throat for a moment, before wasting his last and only chance, abusing the royal’s patience and punching him hard in the face. Or at least, that was his plan. Clearly it was not very thought out, nor very inspired, as Jarvan effortlessly caught the man’s fist in his hand. Henry yelped as he felt his hand crushed by the larger man’s grip. 

  
  


Jarvan was about to drag him outside and throw him into the street, but as he took a step forward a bar stool was brought down heavily against his side. The Prince grunted, letting go of the man’s hand and turning to face his three friends, clearly fancying their chances as they outnumbered him. The man wielding the barstool grinned at having struck a solid blow against the royal. His smugness was removed in a near instant by Vayne, effortlessly lifting herself against the bar and kicking him with blinding speed, the heel of her boot connecting brutally with his throat. He dropped to the floor, a series of wheezy rasping sounds escaping his mouth as he rolled around in agony. 

  
  


Jarvan shot Shauna a wink, who was evidently content to let him handle the rest as she sat herself back down, nursing a tankard of ale. The prince wasted no time in setting upon the two other men, wanting to dispatch them in such a way to not threaten their life. He moved to the side as one of them punched clumsily towards him, lowering his shoulders and punching hard into his gut. Winded and gasping, the man stumbled to the side and collapsed against the bar. Jarvan raised his fists to the final man, who blinked as he looked at his companions writhing against the floorboards, and raised his hands in surrender. Jarvan nodded, respecting the man for knowing when he was beaten. He turned to face Shauna, just in time to catch sight of Henry with a bottle held high above his head, ready to bring it down hard. 

  
  


Jarvan caught his arm mid-air, not having to worry about his other as he was certain he’d broken his hand previously. He carefully took the bottle from the man’s hand, noting it was a full bottle of whiskey, before placing it next to Vayne on the bar. In one swift movement, Jarvan turned back to face the assailant and brought his head down against his face. There was a crunch as Henry’s nose crumpled completely with a spurt of crimson. Not yet satisfied that the man had learnt his lesson, he gripped Henry’s shoulders roughly and brought his knee up hard into his chest-plate. Though demacian armour was thick, it caved inwards like paper at the man’s brutish strength, winding the guard and almost certainly breaking a few ribs. He let go of his shoulders, taking a step to the side and letting him fall with a satisfying thud to the floor atop one of his friends.

  
  


Jarvan looked to Vayne with a smug look upon his face, pleased to see Vayne was beaming at him in admiration. As his attention turned to the rest of the pub however, he noticed looks of horror on the faces of the guests. The barkeep looked with disapproval at the broken barstool and battered men now lying and bleeding on his floor. Vayne rolled her eyes as Jarvan began apologising to the pub-goers for disrupting their evening, enamoured by his manners even if he were making a fool of himself. He sidled up next to Vayne, a little red in the face.

  
  


“ _ I uh… I think maybe we should go” _ He admitted sheepishly, prompting a chuckle from the huntress. 

  
  


“ _ Yeah you made quite the mess, though I wouldn’t say it was undeserved. Though, you may want to appease the barkeep” _ She teased, nodding towards the middle aged man who seemed to grow redder and more enraged at the prince for wrecking his establishment. Jarvan apologised to the man, reaching to his belt to receive some coin to pay him for his troubles, but found his coin purse missing. As he struggled to explain the situation, feeling incredibly self conscious and ridiculous at having brought no money with him, Shauna placed a small sack of coin on the counter.

  
  


“ _ That should cover the damages, oh, and this too” _ She remarked, holding the bottle of whiskey up in her hand as she grabbed Jarvan’s hand with the other. He stammered another reply as Vayne led him out of the pub, squeezing his hand hard in second-hand embarrassment. 


	4. Chapter 4

The pair fled the bar sheepishly, Vayne laughing heartily as she ran, dragging behind a nervously chuckling Jarvan. Vayne led him down the dark moonlit street and rounded the corner, holding him against the brickwork wall as she checked to make sure none of the hooligans were after them. 

  
  


“ _ Shauna I really didn’t intend for things to escalate quite so…” _ He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, assuming he had blown his one and only chance at a first date. Vayne bit her lip however, adjusting his top slightly and undoing his top button with dexterous sleight of hand before brushing dust from his shoulders.

  
  


“ _ I don’t know, it’s kind of flattering having someone brawl on my behalf, even if I could have more than handled myself.” _ Vayne remarked, cocking and uncocking her wrist mounted crossbow with blindingly fast alacrity. Jarvan nodded, all too certain that this would have been the case.

  
  


“ _ Oh I know, I was doing it to protect  _ **_them_ ** _ not you! I mean by the celestials I’ve seen you kick a werewolf to death, Shauna! Those men had no clue what kind of fire they were playing with.” _ He practically shouted, astonished by the gall or more likely absolute stupidity the men displayed. Vayne giggled, remembering just how satisfying it had been to fell the best with her boot, before rolling her eyes at the prince.

  
  


“ _ Come now, you don’t actually think I’d have killed them for disrespecting me, do you pretty boy?” _ Vayne teased, placing her hands on her hips.

  
  


“ _ Absolutely!” _ Jarvan chimed out immediately, prompting a guilty sounding laugh from Vayne. 

  
  


“ _ Well I suppose I might have... maybe just a little” _ She joked, though she had very much considered it when that obnoxious guard had brought up Shyvana.

  
  


“ _ It hurts to think that there’s people so ill informed to think Shyvana is some beast or monster, I’ve even heard people call her a demon. She may not be human, no, but that woman is as fiercely loyal to Demacia as you can get and does this empire a great service. Not to mention she’s a complete sweetheart” _ Vayne continued, blushing slightly as she remembered being just like the common folk upon meeting her, taking a while to warm up to the odd looking half dragon. Jarvan nodded in agreement, understanding where she was coming from. 

  
  


“ _ I know she can fight her own battles, hell even I wouldn’t want to face her on the battlefield, but I can’t help but feel protective of her. I know all the wary looks and grief our citizens and even other soldiers give her must get tiring after a while. Between you and me I get over a dozen complaints every month from other soldiers complaining of her presence, nothing warranted or worth investigating mind you, just ignorant hate based on her scaled appearance. Shyvana doesn’t know this of course, but whenever I find myself cooking for her out on the battlefield I always use those letters as kindling” _ Jarvan remarked, smirking slightly at having found a use for petty ignorance. Shauna nodded approvingly, loving her continued exploration of Jarvan’s more sensitive side. 

  
  


For years now she had him pegged as just another meathead noble, fiercely loyal and fiercely stupid, focused on the glory of battle and nothing further. It turns out she had been sorely mistaken however, and the more she thought about it the clearer it became that he had always been the considerate soul she now saw clearly before her. He was clearly intelligent as his skills as a tactician were legendary, finding herself unable to recall a single instance where he had needlessly risked the lives of his soldiers, no matter the perceived benefit of a particularly risky maneuver. From the way he talked about his dragon companion too, it was clear he had a big heart. Vayne bit her lip slightly, looking from the bottle of whiskey in her hands back to the tall man backed against the wall in front of her.

  
  


She got to her tiptoes, pressing her lips gently against his much like she had the night before. However this time there was more than just probing curiosity on her mind, a flickering flame of passion igniting in her bosom as she parted her lips and began to waltz her tongue against his. The prince’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the strangely intimate turn of events. He thought for sure he had squandered his chances, that she was about to tell him it wasn’t working out and leave him alone in this alley. His hands hovered in the air in surprise, remaining passive and still in shock from the sudden impassioned kiss. Vayne broke the kiss and chuckled slightly, surprised at the hesitation from someone normally very forward and self confident. As she pushed her lips against his again, she guided his hands to her slender waist, where he eagerly gripped her with firm fingers. 

  
  


Enjoying the intoxicating masculine taste of his tongue, Vayne made an extremely uncharacteristic squeak of surprise as she found herself being lifted by the muscular tactician. He lifted her easily, with the arbalist quickly wrapping her legs about his waist as she found her back being leaned roughly against the wall opposite. Jarvan held her there for a few minutes, having fantasized of tasting her ruby rouge lips for years now, delighted to find they tasted of sweet summer berries. As they took great pleasure in exploring one another’s mouths, Jarvan’s fingers crept absentmindedly down her body till he was supporting her by her thighs. His firm fingers squeezing her firm well toned thighs made her smirk from the stimulation, enjoying the strength of his grip. After a time however, his hands made their way towards her ass, and this is where Vayne decided to break the kiss. 

  
  


“ _ Now now, general. Don’t get too hasty” _ She scolded in a playfully sultry tone of voice. She took great delight in watching his cheeks turn red, sheepishly leaning backwards and turning his head to the side as he thought of how best to apologise for being too forward. He was unaware of his mistake, having exposed his neck to a predator, until it was too late. Vayne was swift in her attack, running her tongue from his collarbone up the side of his sensitive neck, causing him to shiver with the unexpected pleasure. As she slowly pulled her lips away from his neck, leaving it slightly wet, she fluttered her eyelashes at him with a smug smirk. She pulled the whiskey bottle into view, dangling it between her thumb and forefinger. 

  
  


“ _ How about we get somewhere a little more private and enjoy some drink first, handsome?” _ She teased, clambering down out of his arms and taking him by the hand. Jarvan realised he hadn’t in fact overstepped his bounds, merely the victim of more teasing from the raven haired woman. He decided to try to tease her back.

  
  


“ _ You’re certainly very eager to get me all alone with you, miss.” _ He began, Vayne quickly letting go of his hand and turning back round to face him with an eyebrow raised. 

  
  


“ _ I suppose, though it would seem I’m not the only one who’s eager” _ She fired back, her eyes flicking down to the bulge in his trousers with a smug smirk about her lips. Jarvan was at once flustered once more, coughing loudly as he attempted to hide his arousal behind his free hand, causing a pleasant laugh from his date. Though she seemed to shrug off his teasing attempt with indifference, Jarvan spotted a tint of red on those pale cheeks of hers, grinning to himself as he was led by the huntress down the alley and into the old district of the city of Demacia. 

  
  


He followed her along ancient cobbled streets, past rough looking abodes and even rougher looking people. The prince never spent all that much time in the older districts, with no real need for the presence of guards or soldiers as crime seemed to ‘resolve’ itself in this part of the city. Despite the intimidating surroundings, Vayne practically had a spring in her step, pointing out all the scuff marks and structural damage caused by past hunts as they passed them. Apparently this district had experienced a somewhat prolific infestation of monstrously sized rat-like beasts swarming in the dozens below the ancient streets in the old sewer systems. Or at least, there were until Vayne plugged each and every one of their plague-bearing bodies with silver bolts. As they continued deeper into the district, Jarvan couldn’t help but wonder where she was taking him. After all, she had a rather large estate inherited from her parents in one of the richer districts, did she have a house somewhere here too?

Vayne let go of his hand and twirled about with her arms out, a joyous smile upon her lips as she welcomed him to her abode. Jarvan glanced about with unease, the pair currently stood in what looked to be an ancient ill-kept graveyard. The accompanying church had seemed to have long since collapsed, with only the bell tower still standing. 

  
  


“ _ Uh… why have you taken me here?” _ The prince asked nervously, beginning to regret being so willful in following the mysterious woman through the city, second guessing her intentions. 

  
  


“ _ Hm? Oh, I figured a graveyard was the perfect romantic locale to  _ **_really_ ** _ get to know each other. Wouldn’t you agree?” _ Vayne remarked, feigning innocence and grinning as she eagerly awaited his response.

  
  


“ _ Oh well… I guess it could be uh… nice? W-what was wrong with just going to a different bar though?” _ Jarvan managed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as he wondered what he’d gotten himself into. Much to his relief however, Shauna burst into hearty laughter, shaking her head in disbelief of how sweet albeit gullible the man was. 

  
  


“ _ I’m just teasing you. I’ve converted this old church ruin into somewhat of a lookout tower. It’s comfy and has a nice view of the city, if you’d care to join me?” _ She remarked, sauntering over to the stone rectangular tower before cocking her wrist crossbow and firing a bolt with a rope attached into one of the supporting wooden beams holding the roof up. As Vayne gripped the rope with one hand, tugging it to ensure it would hold tight, Jarvan puzzled over something he hadn’t realised until now.

  
  


“ _ Wait a minute, when I saw you in the bar you were unarmed, where did you pull that crossbow from?” _ He asked, almost certain her wrists had been bare when he’d approached her initially. She smirked knowingly as she detached the bolt thrower from her arm guard, folding it up and neatly concealing it in a small compartment on the side of her boot. He raised his eyebrows, impressed by the engineering and construction that must have gone into such a feat.

  
  


“ _ You didn’t really think I’d be unarmed, did you?” _ She asked, batting her eyelashes at him once more, enjoying the way he would squirm slightly under her gaze despite being over a foot taller than her. 

  
  


“ _ I guess that was pretty foolish of me, huh?” _ He admitted, prompting a much sweeter smile from his date as she wandered up to him and stood on her tiptoes to plant a delicate affectionate kiss on his cheek. 

  
  


“ _ I think I’m just not as trusting as you, you seem to naturally bring out the good in everyone.” _ She remarked, blushing as she realised the case was true for her as well, as she’d have not hesitated in putting the obnoxious men down, guards or not, had they harassed her while she was not awaiting Jarvan. 

  
  


“ _ You trust me though, right?” _ He asked, surprised to find his voice a little more timid than before, dreading the answer. The huntress beamed up at him still, turning to walk over to the dangling rope leading up to the bell tower, holding it in one hand as she shot a playful wink at the tactician.

  
  


“ _ I wouldn’t have led you here if I didn’t” _ She remarked, tossing him the full bottle of whiskey which he catched easily in one hand, beginning to climb the rope up to her hidden abode. Though he wanted to remain respectful, his eyes wandered to her firm shapely ass clung to tightly by the custom fit leather of her skintight trousers. He felt his heart beat in his chest, excited and anxious as to what the woman had in store for him. 


	5. Chapter 5

Vayne had to whistle to get the bashful royal’s attention, having looked away from her ascent in favour of staring at some gravestones to his side, lest he get caught checking her out. She stood around fifty feet off the ground in what once was the belltower, holding her arms out expectantly. Jarvan shrugged at her, not sure what the gesture meant.

  
  


“ _ Toss me the bottle, doofus~” _ She teased, wondering how he was planning to climb the rope while holding it. She beamed down at him smugly, but her eyes went wide as he quickly did as she asked, hurling the bottle up in the air effortlessly. She had to jump to catch it, surprised by the speed and accuracy of the man’s throw, a little aroused by the clear display of strength. Jarvan complimented her catch, relieved to have not accidentally smashed it against the side of the tower. He climbed fast, after all rope climbing was a part of just about every Demacian soldier’s training regimine, and when he reached to top he was met with the sight of Shauna sitting with her legs hanging over the edge beckoning him to sit beside her.

  
  


The old bell still hung above the make-shift den she’d constructed up here, having boarded off the stairs leaving a decently sized flat wooden floor. There was a training dummy attached to a pulley system with a few bolts sticking out of it, which if he had to guess she used to practice her reactions by seeing how many shots she could land before it hit the ground. There was a small chest of various oils, woodworking equipment, spare bowstrings and even a few old looking crossbows. Besides that, there was a large blanket in the middle of the floor with various pillows scattered about, evidently she had slept here more than once. Vayne noticed him checking out her impromptu watchtower, taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle as he sat himself down beside her. 

  
  


“ _ Home sweet home~” _ she cooed, followed by an alarmingly girlish giggle for a woman normally as stoic as her. The prince liked this side of her, feeling a lot more at ease around the huntress than he had ever been previously. She handed him the whiskey bottle, kicking her legs as she narrowed her eyes and gazed out across the city. From this vantage point she could see almost every district of the enormous city, the distant glow of the torch-topped wall only a vague shadowy shape crowning the horizon. Jarvan took a swig, admittedly more accustomed to wine than something so potent, trying with every fibre of his being to not cough and splutter and embarrass himself. He placed the bottle between them both, placing his hands on his lap as he waited for the burning in his throat to subside. Having successfully endured the worst of the liquor’s wrath, he opened his mouth to speak.

  
  


“ _ It’s nice up here, if a little exposed” _ He remarked, assuming she’d use this location much more commonly in the warmer months. Vayne was in the process of removing her armour plated exterior, leaving just her boots and her navy coloured bodysuit.

  
  


“ _ Surprisingly demons and monsters alike get sluggish in the colder months just like we do. Except for those of the Freljord of course who may wander south during the winter, but they are lumbering and slow in comparison to the tricky sneaky devils we have down south; they never make it past the wall.” _ She explained, her gaze moving from her far right and following the distant shape of the city’s wall before coming to rest with a smile upon Jarvan.

  
  


“ _ You’re far more knowledgeable than I, miss Vayne” _ The prince commented earnestly, finding it hard to keep her intimidating gaze even with the pleasant smirk upon her lips. 

  
  


“ _ You’d know that if you spent any time with me before now, you big oaf~” _ The huntress teased, playfully shoving his shoulder causing him to grip the corner beam instinctively, reminded of the precarious ledge they were perched on. Jarvan chuckled, letting go of the beam and rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as he looked out over the city. In the very distance he could see the bulky palace building, glad to be out with her rather than cooped up alone as he would be on any other night.

  
  


“ _ I really am sorry Shauna. I should have been more respectful before and shown an interest in you for who you are and not just for your body.” _ He admitted, feeling his cheeks grow warm with the embarrassment and the tender kiss of the whiskey he’d choked down. 

  
  


“ _ You’re a meat-head, that’s for sure.” _ Vayne replied, taking another swig of whiskey from the bottle, placing it back down between them and turning to face him once more.

  
  


“ _ But you’re sensitive, thoughtful, and an absolute sweetheart when you want to be.” _ She added, a subsequent wave of relief washing over the prince as he reached for the whiskey bottle once more, following his companions lead. His fingers didn’t find the bottle, however, instead being intercepted by the huntress herself. She held his hand for a moment, studying his face carefully, before slowly interlocking her fingers with his. 

  
  


“ _ I like that side of you.” _ She remarked, biting her lip lightly as she leaned closer towards him. 

  
  


“ _ T-thanks, I like uh… I like the side of you that doesn’t feel like you’re going to put a bolt in me the moment I open my mouth” _ He joked, feeling more flustered by the moment as the arbalest moved closer and closer. Her face moved past his, her lips mere millimetres from his ear. 

  
  


“ _ How about you put something in me, my prince~” _ Vayne teased, her serious almost monotone cadence changing to something much more sultry and alluring. As her lips lingered near his ear, awaiting his response, she subtly moved the whiskey bottle off to the side. 

  
  


“ _ I uh y-yes I… believe I c-could… I mean I’d love to, uh…” _ The floundering prince began, cut short as Vayne gripped him firmly by the shirt and pressed him down against the floor of the watchtower. She giggled melodically as she looked down at her prey, an almost sinister smirk upon her lips as she began to crawl her way up his body. Jarvan’s excitement was causing his trousers to bulge, only growing harder as the woman’s fingertips moved gently across it. Her fingers did not linger however, continuing to move up his body until she was face-to-face with the royal once more. Her mouth opened slowly, inching closer and closer to his lips, causing the prince to close his eyes and do the same in response. He waited for a moment, but upon not feeling her soft rouge lips against his, he opened them again to see her smirking at him. 

  
  


“ _ So eager~” _ She teased, leaning down and licking his neck slowly and seductively, her hot wet tongue causing shivers up Jarvan’s spine. Her hips moved back and forth slowly with each sweep of her tongue along his sensitive neck, giggling softly as she felt his manhood twitch below her in response to the constant friction. The Prince remained passive, his hands at his side, simply enjoying the moment and too caught off guard to be proactive. After a few moments of teasing, licking, and a few tender fleeting kisses upon his lips, he decided to escalate the situation. He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her close for a deep impassioned kiss with the huntress moaning faintly from the masculine whiskey-touched taste of his tongue. She broke the kiss, narrowing her eyes at him, before reaching backwards and guiding his hands to her plump spandex covered rear. 

  
  


“ _ It’s alright, I don’t bite~” _ The raven-haired woman teased, moaning softly once more as Jarvan squeezed her ass eagerly. No sooner had the words left her lips than had her teeth met his neck, littering the royal with love bites and teeth marks from his collarbone to his chin as his fingers explored her shapely rear. It was firm owing to her athletic form, meaning Jarvan had to squeeze hard to feel the soft spandex-covered flesh between his fingers. Vayne moaned once more, her breathing growing heavy and her cheeks a similar shade to her lips. Seemingly feeling a little self conscious about the alluring sounds escaping her lips, she opted instead to press them against the prince’s and swirl her tongue against his own. Their kissing was heated and passionate, their tongues entwined in an elegant ballet of lust and longing, each movement desperate to explore more of their partner’s mouth than the last. 

  
  


After several minutes, Vayne found herself growing uncomfortably hot even despite the chilly winter air surrounding them. She wanted to reach back and unzip her bodysuit, but with her arms comfortably looped around her lover’s neck, she opted instead to get him to do it. 

  
  


“ _ Jarvan, be a dear and unzip me~” _ She cooed, grinning from ear to ear as she looked down at the red faced man below her, clearly as hot and bothered as she was from their saucy make out session. Jarvan nodded dumbly, prompting Vayne to roll her eyes and pounce upon his neck once more now littering the opposite side with love-bites. It would seem she was very clear to mark the prince as her own. Meanwhile Jarvan maintained one hand on her ass and used the other to slowly pull her zipper down from between her shoulder blades to the base of her spine. She paused her licking and biting for a moment, narrowing her eyes as she felt his hand moving gingerly beneath the fabric of her outfit to cup her bare ass. She rolled her eyes once more before sitting up, her eyes locked on Jarvan’s. She moved her arms to her side, allowing the bodysuit to slip down her arms and chest, revealing her perky pale breasts and slender well-toned stomach. Jarvan’s eyes were as big as saucers, practically drooling at the sight of such soft perfect spheres, her nipples firm and erect in the cold night air. 

  
  


She opened her mouth to tease him further, but found him quickly sitting up and pressing his face against her breasts as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He held her firm, his thick muscular biceps squeezing her delicately yet eagerly as his tongue explored her breasts. He latched on to one of her nipples, sucking and biting rhythmically and pleasurably. Vayne threw her head back in pleasure, her nipples already fiercely sensitive from the cold air and rubbing against her clothing all day. The way his strong arms held her tight turned her on ferociously, finding the display of strength and restraint extremely alluring. He could snap her like a twig if he wanted to, he was easily over a foot taller than herself, yet she had him wrapped around her finger and nibbling at her breasts. She found herself grinding her hips back and forth slowly as his tongue swirled against her sensitive buds, her lust beginning to dampen the fabric of her bodysuit that hung loosely about her hips. 

  
  


As Jarvan delivered a pleasant warm wetness to her perky breasts one lick at a time, Vayne set to work using her dexterous fingers to undo the buttons of his shirt. Soon enough his chiselled chest was exposed to the night air, though Vayne didn’t stop at his shirt. Lifting herself slightly, she unbuttoned his trousers, the prince far too occupied with appreciating her bosom to notice until he felt her slender fingers curl slowly around his shaft. Shauna couldn’t help but smirk, feeling that his manhood was already slick with precum, no doubt due to her steady grinding against and their heated exchange of saliva. She freed his cock from the constraints of his trousers, springing forth into the chilly night hair, practically steaming from how hot it felt in her grasp. Jarvan stopped his assault on her chest, leaning backwards with one eye closed and biting his lip slightly, extremely conscious of her fingertips against his shaft. She inspected his cock with a grin, pleased to find the size of his manhood matched the stature of the man himself, decently thick and clearly above average. 

  
  


“ _ My, my~ What a large spear you have~” _ Vayne teased, slowly massaging the shaft up and down as she beamed down at him. Jarvan grinned, but internally a war was raging in his mind to force himself to not correct her and say his weapon was a lance. 

  
  


“ _ Hardly seems fair if I’m the only one armed” _ Jarvan shot back, struggling to flirt as naturally as his raven haired peer did, desperate for her to remove her bodysuit properly so he could get a proper look at her. Vayne smirked, tapping her nose knowingly.

  
  


“ _ You’re going to end up impaling me anyway, so why does it matter?~” _ She teased again, leaning down and licking the side of his face sensually, sandwiching his cock between them as she did so. Jarvan fumbled his words, a slight shiver up his spine from her tongue’s caress, with Vayne deciding she was bordering on cruel with her teasing by this point; despite the enjoyment she got from it. Wordlessly, she slowly got to her feet and stood over him. She turned around, legs either side of his waist, looking over her shoulder smugly as she moved her thick jet black braid out of the way to give him a proper view. She shook her hips from side to side slowly causing her bodysuit to come tumbling down her thighs. She bent over slowly as it fell, sticking her firm pale ass out to give the prince a real show. She stepped out of it completely, now stood naked before him. As if he wasn’t already salivating enough, she reached a hand backwards and spread her ass for him ever so slightly; just enough to reveal her glistening lust covered lips to him.

  
  


“ _ Where do you want me, your majesty?~” _ Vayne inquired, a sultry and husky tone of voice in stark contrast to the smug almost sinister smirk upon her lips. She turned around to face him once more, tracing her fingertips from her waist slowly along the outline of her hips, before wandering down her well toned thighs. She bit her lip as she watched him open his mouth, fully anticipating him to beg for her to ride his cock, already bending her legs slightly to ready herself for straddling him.

  
  


“ _ I want to taste you.” _ Jarvan replied back confidently, licking his lips slightly as he stared up at the athletic woman standing over him. Vayne flushed beet red, caught off guard by the request. It seemed that once again she had misjudged his character, resulting in her suddenly feeling very self conscious. She stepped forward, her lust clearly visible connecting her labia to her inner thighs. She lowered herself so that she was straddling his chest, only to squeak uncharacteristically as she felt his strong hands grip her ass firmly and move her up to his face. She wanted to tease him for his eagerness, gain the upperhand and alleviate some of the uncertainty she felt from his request, but the moment his tongue met her clit she could only utter short impassioned moans of bliss. 

  
  


She had been worried he would not like her taste, that she might underperform in some way, that if he were to focus on her rather than have her focus on pleasuring him he might discover her inexperience. The satisfied albeit muffled sounds of contentment emanating from between her thighs as the prince explored her pussy with his tongue, however, reassured her that he was very much enjoying her lust. His fingers gripped her ass much harder than before, causing her to gasp and rock her hips forwards much to the royal’s delight. He spanked her lightly, apparently feeling much more confident with the huntress mounting his face; that or he was too lost in the delicious flavour of her nectar to care about risking her wrath. Regardless of the reason, the end result was a series of sharp girlish moans and whimpers from the arbalest as a series of red handprints now adorned her pale rear. 

  
  


After several minutes of riding his face, glistening trails of her lust now adorning his face, her thighs spasmed and clamped down either side of his head. She felt hot and tense, that tension suddenly releasing and flooding her body with euphoria as her back arched and a long lustful moan escaped her lips. Jarvan pulled her body hard against him, squeezing her ass roughly and moaning softly as her nectar filled his mouth, swallowing her climax down greedily. He probed her entrance with his tongue, lapping the last of her honey on to his tongue, finding her walls much tighter around his tongue. She leaned forward having to support herself with her hands, breathing hard as she struggled to keep her composure. Jarvan lifted her effortlessly, shuffling her backwards so she was straddling his chest once more, his proud grin now glistening with her lust as he licked his lips. 

  
  


“ _ Ready for me to run you through now, miss Vayne?” _ The prince teased, spanking her ass hard once more, pushing his advantage. The huntress rolled her eyes, trying her best to hide how light headed and out of sorts he’d gotten her. She bent down to passionately kiss him once more, sucking his tongue slightly and shuddering as the sweet taste of her lust met her mouth. Sitting back up she left a string of saliva and nectar connecting their lips. 

  
  


“ _ I suppose~” _ She teased, giggling slightly at the man pinned between her thighs. “ _ So, how do you want me? _ ” She asked, chuckling once more as she found the prince answering with his hands rather than his words; gripping her waist and rolling her over so that she was laid down on her back below him. She bit her lip fiercely as she looked up at him, turned on by him taking charge despite her incessant teasing, wrapping her legs eagerly around his back and looping her arms around his neck. She pulled him into a passionate messy kiss, moaning softly as she felt his cock rubbing against her sensitive clit, desperate to feel him inside. Something the prince was apparently all too aware of. He continued grinding himself against her for a few more moments until Shauna couldn’t take it any longer, breaking the kiss with her cheeks as red as her lips as she spoke. 

  
  


“ _ Fuck me, please” _ she pleaded. “ _ I want to feel you inside of me~” _

  
  


This was all Jarvan needed to hear, smirking to himself for a moment, proud to have teased her back successfully after the whole evening being tormented. He positioned his cock at her entrance, finding it hot and welcoming, unable to resist but to push harder and harder until her lips stretched around his girthy head. She moaned and arched her back, Jarvan having to concentrate on not climaxing then and there as his manhood plunged deep between her tight hot walls. He felt his cock meet some resistance, Vayne quivering and moaning below him, tightening her legs around his waist as his cock impacted her cervix. Completely unaware of her being a virgin, Jarvan had no intention of taking it easy on her. Pinning her to the floor, their tongues dancing and swirling against one another with the taste of her mess still shared between them, he began to fuck her deep and rough against the floorboards. 

  
  


Vayne managed to keep her composure at first, adjusting to the feeling of being stretched and filled with his hot meaty cock, but after just a minute or so she found herself climaxing for a second time. Unlike her first orgasm however, Jarvan didn’t relent. Her cunt quivered and spasmed, oversensitive and pulsing with pleasure, but this only spurred her lover on further. He gripped her ass and lifted her slightly, getting a better angle from which to bludgeon her cervix, Vayne feeling as if the man were fucking her womb he was so deep. She whimpered and moaned and drooled slightly, the fierce pleasure entwined with a dull albeit stimulating ache as Jarvan roughly took her virginity. There was a small pool of her lust between them both, thick strands of precum and nectar adorning her thighs as he pumped himself in and out of her, eventually unable to resist the desire to finish himself off. 

  
  


Though his mind was thoroughly fogged with lust and longing, after a short internal debate about filling the raven haired beauty with his seed, he decided against it. Instead, he pulled out of her and pressed his cock flat against her stomach, firing off rope after steamy rope across her breasts and midriff. The pair lay for a long time, Vayne’s legs still firmly locked around him, panting and shuddering from the aftershocks of pleasure still pulsing through them both. Shauna it seemed was much more exhausted from the encounter than the royal, scarcely able to keep her eyes open even as she attempted to tease him about overpowering her, with Jarvan eventually scooping her up and placing her to rest in the nest-like arrangement of pillows and blankets in the centre of the tower. He laid beside her, Vayne quickly opting to rest her head on her chest with her fingers interlocked with his, watching the sun begin to peak over the distant foggy mountains. 

  
  
  



End file.
